


Deep-Dish Regret, Topped With Spite

by Spudato



Category: RWBY
Genre: Ace!Yang, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Other, genderweird!Weiss, nb!blake, queer writing by a queer writer for queer readers, trans!Velvet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-04-21 08:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spudato/pseuds/Spudato
Summary: It's Yang's 20th birthday, so Blake and Velvet need to buy pizza. Lots of it. This is an easy task, until they find somebody asleep in the freezer.





	1. Cart Full of Empty, Freezer Full of Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Context: plastic-pipes.tumblr.com/post/172791322383  
> That's it. That's your context. The rest can be blamed on Velvet Server.

The party is for Yang’s twentieth birthday. Everyone knows how it’ll go; there’ll be drinking, dancing, terrible playlists, at least two hours of everyone taking turns playing music to inspire nostalgia, someone on the roof getting high and probably falling off said roof around one in the morning, and pizza. Lots and lots of pizza. So much pizza, in fact, that if one were uninformed that the pizza was for Yang Xiao Long’s birthday party it’d look very much like Blake and Velvet were planning on buying pizza for over a hundred people.

They could be forgiven for the assumption, because Blake has the list in their hand and the thing goes on for two sheets of notebook paper. Every type of pizza goes, and it’s the one night of the year Yang can’t be mocked for liking pineapple on hers. They have fancy vegetarian pizza and greasy cheese and traditional pepperoni and spicy chicken and Blake’s just about to tell Velvet they probably need more than six Meat Feasts when Velvet says, out of nowhere, “Blake, there’s someone in the pizza.”

The words make absolutely no sense out of context, and Blake blinks at her owlishly before following the line of their girlfriend’s gaze, blinking again when they realise there is, indeed, someone _in the pizza_.

The waist-high freezer is full of a rainbow of brightly coloured boxes, countless brands all stacked high (and usually somewhat depleted on the weekends), and it wouldn’t be a completely wild assumption to say that’s generally all there is in there. But today, at this hour, in this moment, in a supermarket on the outskirts of town, there’s someone taking a nap in the freezer. They’re laid out over the boxes like it’s some icy mattress, feet propped high and head pillowed on an own-brand ‘Thick and Loaded’ margarita. They’re also so tiny that they barely leave a damn dent in the boxes beneath their hips, though Blake’s sure that the lot of them will have to be thrown in the trash after a countless number of health code violations. Not that they particularly care about that right now, all things considered, because there’s _someone asleep in the goddamn pizza freezer_.

Blake considers them for a moment. They hold up a hand, about to speak, and then drop it again when they realise there really is no suitable response to this. There’s nobody else around right now, and no way to know how long they’ve been napping there, and Blake has so many questions for this stranger right now.

Luckily, Velvet’s always been better at handling weird situations. She steps away from the cart, strides over to the freezer, leans over the side to look at the surviving boxes, sighs, and then reaches in to shake them awake.

“Hey. Hey, sorry buddy, but you’re kinda asleep on three different pizzas my datemate and I need to grab.”

There’s a bunch of blustered syllables as the Napper blearily wakes, giving off a jaw-creaking yawn before shifting over the boxes in a stretch. It’s like they break into perfectly unintruded pizza freezers every day for all the shits they’re giving off right about now. They look up at Velvet, squint as if _she’s_ the one in the wrong, and then looks around themself.

“Oh,” they say. “Sorry. What do you want?”

Blake’s getting really lost for words.

“Uh, the meat feast under your butt- six of ‘em, actually, that might cause a dip. And, under your feet, I need the- actually, we need a lot of these.”

“Oh,” they say again. “Sorry,” they repeat.

Blake’s trying to figure out at what part of the trip they fell into an alternate dimension where people sleep in freezers and nobody notices. Maybe it was the weird crow they saw on the drive over, or maybe it was when the sliding door got jammed for a half-second as they walked in. Portals can crop up anywhere. Maybe they should’ve built a bunker back on Menagerie for good measure.

But they’re not getting anywhere chasing this rabbit hole, so they bring the cart over, leaning over the freezer like they’re gawking at an animal in a zoo. Which is how it feels anyway, so.

The Napper is… oddly familiar in a way they can’t place that instant. Short, white hair and pale skin, one eye blue and the other milky blind, a narrow scar running from hairline to jaw. They don’t _look_ homeless or anything, not that Blake could ever claim to have seen a homeless person sleep in a... _freezer_ … but that’s beside the point. They’re wearing a nice cotton plaid shirt in more blue and white, collar loose, and tight navy jeans, as well as bright blue converse. Blake is halfway convinced that what they’re seeing is the spirit of the pizza freezer, who defends against leaks and any temperatures exceeding minus-eighteen celsius. They mull it over. The theory holds water.

“Hey, um,” Velvet starts again, dragging a hand over her freckled face as she glances about like someone will eventually explain what’s going on with accompanying powerpoint and flashcards. “Are you, like, okay?”

The Napper just stares at Velvet blankly, head dropping back onto the pizza, and Blake had to admit; ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.  If people expressed okayness by sleeping on top of pizza, it’d be used to stuff beds. Velvet seems to realise this, and looks at Blake in a way she’s looked at them a thousand times before. It’s the universal sign of _I’m about to do something stupid, so either stop me or join me_ , and with that she leans back over the freezer again. “Well, we’re buying stuff for a birthday party. Wanna come with us?”

That was definitely a _stop me_ moment, but the offer’s already out there. The Napper looks to Blake, brows rising as if to say _she serious?_ and Blake just shrugs. _Afraid so_.

The nonverbal conversation comes to an end when the Napper shuts their eyes, frowning against the fluorescent light. “You won’t like me.”

Velvet snorts. “You’d be surprised. I make friends like fallin’ off a log.”

When the Napper looks at Velvet again, they seem like they’re about ready to prove her wrong by bopping her in the jaw. “Even if I were, I don’t know, Weiss Schnee?”

Recognition clicks into place immediately. Problem is, it spawns so many questions it sort of obliterates any other train of thought, and Blake’s first to reply. “Well, that just makes me wanna know why Weiss Schnee is chilling out next to the spinach and ricotta.”

Yang would be proud of that pun. Blake’s almost surprised their Scroll didn’t buzz with a text the moment they said that. The Napper - sorry, Weiss - makes a noncommittal noise, as if she’s not too sure herself, but Velvet rubs between thick eyebrows and offers a hand out, motioning for Weiss to grab it when she doesn’t move. “Listen, we’re throwing a party and, y’know, you look like you need one right now. We’ll even push you in the trolley if you wanna stay asleep.”

Blake’s asked a _billion_ times if Velvet’ll push _them_ in the cart and she _never_ says yes. Still, the offer’s a good one and Weiss finally lets out a steamy breath, reaching for Velvet’s hand and being hauled into a sitting position before Velvet picks her up like a sack of potatoes and drags her out of the freezer. Half the pizzas are probably almost definitely unsalvageable, but Blake just looks to their list and starts grabbing what they can, Schnee-shaped imprints be hecked. Meanwhile, Weiss is negotiated into the cart, slouched against the rear and looking like she’s one good yawn from passing out again. So, Blake piles the pizzas in on top, almost hiding her entirely once they finally reach the second page. With all their soon-to-be purchases all the damage has basically been taken out and put into their cart, so at least that’ll be a blessing for whichever poor bastard has the duty of tidying up.

Once everything’s in order Velvet pushes the cart towards the checkout, the weight meaning even her impressive muscles have to heave, and in the meantime Blake pulls out their Scroll, sending a few discreet texts Yang’s way.

 

> **_disaster central:_ ** _okay so we got everything on the list_
> 
> **_disaster central:_ ** _also possibly smthng extra_
> 
> **_a yangarang did it:_ ** _Oh??_
> 
> **_disaster central:_ ** _would you believe me if i said someone was asleep in the freezer_
> 
> **_disaster central:_ ** _and that velv invited her to the party_
> 
> **_a yangarang did it:_ ** _If it were literally anyone else sending me this text, no_
> 
> **_a yangarang did it:_ ** _You two? Absolutely_
> 
> **_disaster central:_ ** _good to see my rep remains intact_
> 
> **_disaster central:_ ** _see u in like 10 minutes_
> 
> **_a yangarang did it:_ ** _Okay but are they cute?_
> 
> **_disaster central:_ ** _ull see_
> 
> **_disaster central:_ ** _but also yes_
> 
> **_a yangarang did it:_ ** _Pizza with extra CUTE_

By this point Velvet’s reached the checkout, staring at the cartload of pizza like she’s seeing it for the first time. It’s a mood. A huge mood. A big mood. A bood, one might say. Still, this still isn’t the weirdest thing to have ever happened preceding one of Yang’s parties. Arguably. Maybe. Possibly.

And then Blake sees Weiss handing the pizzas over to Velvet to put on the conveyor like a very helpful child, and Blake glances around the store one last time, searching for backwards words or strange magic in the corners. Technically, their alternate-universe freezer spirit theory hasn’t been disproved _yet_.


	2. Strange Bedfellows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang's party commences with many uninvited guests. Somehow, Weiss is not one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how it the story continuing we just don't know

There’s a certain smell pervading the air of the eight-bedroomed student house one hour into Yang’s twentieth birthday party. It’s admittedly mostly of pizza with undertones of weed but Blake also smells the tang of bad decisions. Sometimes bad decisions smell distinctly of smoke and other times they stink of melted plastic, but tonight they’re of whatever perfume Weiss is wearing, flowery but sharp and somehow managing to stand out over the bitter reek of cheap beer.

Yang is, however, the type of person to go with the flow even if the flow is clogged up with pure and complete bullshit, and Weiss’s appearance was no exception; rather, when Blake and Velvet had turned up with Weiss in the back seat of Blake’s car, Yang had just laughed and laughed and laughed before giving Weiss a cider and plopping her down on the sofa. Consequently, it was where she’d stayed for the entire time they set up the house for the party, intermittently sipping at her cider whilst shrugging off any prodding attempts to learn more.

“It’s all cool with me,” Yang had said, shrugging when Blake had asked if she was even, y’know, vaguely concerned about Weiss and her less-than-fantastic nap locations. “Maybe she’s givin’ us a bit of a cold-shoulder, but hey! Maybe she’s got problems she can only solve by climbing into a freezer! Let’s just keep her out of ours and everything’ll be chill.”

Blake hadn’t been happy with this laissez-faire bollocks, but even when they complained to Velvet she’d not been much concerned either, waving off their every concern like this happened every day. But it _didn’t_ happen every day! This was the first time it’d happened at all! So Blake wound up laid face-down on their bed, groaning into a pillow nonstop until Velvet had tutted and patted their butt comfortingly, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and leaning over to kiss a nest of black curls.

“Listen. If she wants to come out with whatever’s going on with her, I’m sure she’ll say. For now, let’s just throw a party and have fun, yeah?”

That had sounded just fine on paper! Blake had definitely wanted to move past the part of the experience where they felt like they’d been slightly dissociating but also really really high, but yet when they’d come downstairs to see Weiss sat on the sofa again, staring at the photos on the walls and silent as she’d ever been, part of them had still wanted to jump onto the dining table to screech ‘ _can we PLEASE discuss the SCHNEE and her FREEZER ESCAPADES?’_ But nobody would have taken them up on that even if they had, so they didn’t.

Cut to now, one hour into Yang’s party. Living in the house is Yang and Blake and Velvet, Pyrrha and Jaune and Nora and Ren, as well as Yang’s younger sister Ruby. There’s technically space for another housemate if they really wanted, given that Velvet actually spends most of her time in Blake’s room (which is therefore _their_ room) and so her room is actually just storage space but the landlord doesn’t care so long as everyone pays rent, so, you know. Anyway, what it means is that they’re all present by default, so most of their actual guests include Velvet’s friends Coco, Fox and Yatsu, a couple of neighbours from down the road like Sun and Neptune, and then there’s a ton of (who Blake privately refers to as) randos who either were invited by a friend of a friend or just stumbled through the front door. Either works. Pizzas are shoved in the oven one after another on undoubtedly the wrong temperature because the knob is so worn nobody can actually tell what setting it’s on, and somehow a drink was spilled over the kitchen floor within ten minutes of the party actually getting started. Ruby excused herself to join a raid with her guild on Remnant Origins: Online not long after that, and the entire time Weiss sat alone in the middle of the living room like the eye of the storm, nobody knowing a damn thing about her and her likely not knowing a damn thing about them in return.

Whether she was hoping to stay that way, Blake doesn’t know, but Yang is anything but idle when it comes to new people and just after an hour ticks by they spot Yang coaxing Weiss off the sofa and through the kitchen, slipping out into the backyard together. Blake looks at Velvet like this is an interesting development and therefore worth their attention, but Velvet doesn’t care because Velvet’s more interested in shoving them into the darkest corner of the living room to make out with them instead. In Blake’s opinion, this is an entirely fair and fine use of their time.

Outside, in Yang’s honest opinion, is less fine. Not in a bad sort of way! She mostly just wants to find out exactly who the heck Blake and Velvet accidentally-on-purpose dragged home with them, like two kids who decided to blow their pocket money on a hamster (Yang’s firsthand experiences of such matters notwithstanding). That, and Weiss also didn’t seem to be having any fun, and that sucked, because ever since she was thirteen Yang had sworn that every person at every party she would ever host would have fun. All of them! So Yang’s on a mission to get Weiss to have fun. Maybe the yard isn’t the greatest place to try that, but at least Yang can hear herself think out here.

“So, uh,” she starts, mumbling directly into her bottle of beer. “You’re Weiss Schnee?”

Wow, that’s a bad start. Even by Yang’s impressively shit standards that a bad start. Already she can hear Ruby sprinting downstairs to say _wow, Yang, what a bad start that was_. She’d deserve it. Wow. Of course, it’s not like Weiss seems to mind, given she shrugs and stares off at a dying tomato plant by the gate into the alleyway. “Sure.”

“Oh. Neat.” Maidens above Yang can only hope that one day she’ll get her foot surgically removed from her mouth. Maybe she can book an urgent appointment sometime. “Well, I’m Yang. As you know. And, uh-” There’s really no easy way to talk to her. Small talk doesn’t seem to be applicable in this _situation_ . So, Yang exhales. Inhales. Regrets it when all she can smell are the unwashed cans in the recycling box next to the door. “I’m gonna level with you. We- and by ‘we’ I mean _Blake_ since they’re, y’know, kinda suspicious of everything in life. It’s bad habit of theirs. Anyway, we were wondering, well, if there was any particular reason you were… in a freezer?”

This is the most pressing question. Well, not to Yang, of course. Yang think it’s more important to know why Weiss Schnee is a) in Vale and b) so damn _cute,_ but Blake would one-hundred percent strangle Yang to death with the cover of their dakimakura (which is of Velvet, by the by. Nobody has asked why. Nobody intends to.) to death if she didn’t get this one question out of the way first. Weiss squints at the plant and then looks to Yang with this stare that’s just a _touch_ icy as if the answer isn’t blazingly obvious. It’s not, so Yang holds a shrug until the shorter girl sighs and glances away. Speaking of, goddamn, Yang can’t even use her as a proper armrest she’s _that_ tiny. “I don’t know.”

This is, objectively, not a good answer. It has the beneficial side-effect of making Yang feel better about the chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome she’s been suffering from. “So you, what, jumped on in without a clue?”

“Kinda. I guess.”

Yang feels like Schnees should be more… chatty? This isn’t at all how she’s seen them on the TV. Not that that’s a good gauge of anyone’s character; Professor Goodwitch looks so presentable when she’s used as source in history documentaries, yet Yang’s seen her wearing a full set of pyjamas to class and sleeping in the back of the library more times than she can count on hands both prosthetic and real. “Really? Gonna admit I’m kinda… I’m gonna have to tap ‘X for Doubt’ right about now.”

Weiss’s expression says she doesn’t get the reference. That’s fine; if Yang ever sees again she’ll be thoroughly educated by being bombarded with meme videos. It’s how Yang makes all her friends, barring designated grandmother friend Pyrrha. Still, she does eventually reply with, “Can I blame depression as my get out of jail free card?”

Maybe she _did_ get the reference. “Okay, fair.”

It’s not _really_ all fair. Yang gets the mood though, all the way. It’s a big mood! A bood, as Blake would say. Yang’s sensing an opening in Weiss’s demeanor, though, and she’s happy enough to try for a leap of faith. “So, dissociating in the freezer?”

Weiss makes a little pop with her mouth before she snorts, a smile just _barely_ starting before she wipes it away, setting her mouth into a hard line again. “Hit the nail on the head.”

From inside, Coco whoops and says something about Velvet _getting a room_ , and then the music gets louder because no Adel has ever managed to last a single gathering without fucking with the music somehow. Yang’s just figuring out what to say next without pressing _too_ hard when Weiss crosses her arms, tilting her head towards Yang before licking her lips. She’s still really cute, with a pixie cut and eyebrows sharp enough to probably cut a man, shooting Yang a decidedly conspiratorial look. “Truth is… mm, truth is I’m meant to be at this- like a concert, right now.”

 _That_ isn’t at all what Yang’s expecting to hear. Not even close. “Seriously?”

“I’m a-” Weiss mimes playing piano for a second, and Yang can’t help but think she has the hands for it. That’s followed up with her thinking that’s a pretty gay thought to have. “Pianist. I usually go to these industry… parties, I guess, like this, but more expensive. I play. Sing. Get drunk and sleep it off in a hotel.” Her hands fall. “I was shopping for- I don’t know what, but I guess the thought of going back to my room was… a bit much.”

Yang can both feel and hear some sort of metaphorical notification popping up above her head that says something like ‘You Unlocked: Weiss Lore’, or maybe a quest marker that says ‘Find Out More About The Concert’, but that’s also a really dumb visual in her head. Like, really dumb. She just laughs. “Your body noped out before your brain caught up, huh?”

For the first time all night, Weiss smiles. It’s really cute! One of her teeth isn’t quite straight - not as bad as Velvet’s snaggletoothed grin since she’d sooner fistfight a dentist than have braces - but it’s enough to give her smile a little bit of personality. Yang likes it a lot. She’d really like to see it more, maybe.

“I didn’t even really realise I was in the freezer until I saw- Velvet? Her face hovering over me.”

“That’s how most people meet Velvet for the first time, honestly. She has a knack for weird folk.” Yang winks and the jest goes over well if the slight widening of Weiss’s smile is any indication. Considering it’s her first smile, that’s a pretty big indication in Yang’s book! “But I guess this means you’re going back to Atlas soon, right?” Weiss’s smile drops. Whoops.

“I suppose so.” Weiss reaches up to scratch one eyebrow, and Yang realises she’s bitten her nails down to little stubs. They’re not as bad - and considerably neater - than Blake ‘Perpetually Anxious’ Belladonna’s nails, but it should’ve tipped Yang off. “Although is it bad of me to be considering just moving to a different hotel and missing my flight?”

“I suppose so, given you’re technically not allowed to live in Vale.”

Weiss hummed, and then shook her head with a little laugh. “Dual citizenship, actually.”

Yang’s head jerked downwards, trying to eye Weiss up again. She looked as Atlesian as they came, although her Valian was only barely accented, and Yang didn’t know of any Schnee from Vale. After a moment’s staring, Weiss elaborated. “Citizenship by investment. You can pay for anything with money, Yang.”

It sounds fake, but Weiss is the one saying it, so Yang doubts it’s fake. But still! You could invest money and just _become_ a citizen? “Really?”

Weiss nods along but doesn’t say anything more, as if that’s now all cleared up. And it is, kinda, though Yang feels an urge to pull out her Scroll to look it up anyway. The song in the house changes to something pretty old school and everyone cheers, and Yang hisses at the early summer breeze when it’s surprisingly cold against exposed arms.  Weiss isn’t bothered. No surprise there.

“Well… if that’s the case, why don’t you stay the night here?”

The offer is sudden and takes both of them by surprise. In Yang’s defense, it makes sense. Everyone’s going to get trashed and if Weiss needs a lift back to her hotel it certainly won’t be happening tonight, and if people are maybe looking for their absent pianist then it’s probably best to skip out on them for a longer while yet. Besides, one night can’t hurt. They have the space.

“I mean,” Weiss blinks, and then frowns. “Are you sure? No offense, but your friends found me passed out in a freezer. You hardly know me.”

Yang barely knows half the people in the house right now. “I don’t know, like, half the people destroying our house right now. I know more about you than them.”

And would know way more if she hunted up articles and Weiss’s own page of Openpedia, so really, they were basically almost friends at this point.

“That’s- yeah, okay,” Weiss finally admits, looking back through the glass of the backdoor to see Pyrrha bodily pushing Nora away from a bottle of tequila. “If you’re okay with me-”

“You’d have to do some serious shit for me _not_ to be okay with you. And I mean _you_ , not your family name.” The reassurance makes Weiss’s shoulders drop, tension deflating her all at once, and Yang realises a little too late that maybe she should’ve specified that earlier. Oh well. “C’mon. Lemme show you who lives here.”

Going back inside is like walking into a really sweaty oven; the heat from making food is enough to make the kitchen sweltering enough on its own, but all the extra bodies make it nigh unbearable. None of Yang’s housemates are in there any longer anyway, a small blessing, so Yang makes a path out into the living room where a few more familiar faces are hanging out. Unlike the creamy-tiled kitchen, bashed up yellowed cupboards and leaky fridge, the living room is eclectic collection of everybody’s shit. The sofas are ratty and old and if you sit wrong sometimes a spring jams up into your ass, and the green beanbag in the corner has burst so many times there’s still tiny polystyrene balls in the carpets no matter how often they’ve hoovered it. The walls are… _okay_ , even if the godawful floral wallpaper is starting to peel clean off. Most of the house is all bare floorboards and exposed plaster anyway, because as it turns out the landlords who own student digs don’t particularly give a fuck so long as the students cough up every month (and they will, because there’s really no other choice). Whatever. It’s home.

“So you’ve already met Blake and Vel- don’t mind them. They do this a lot.” Yang’s motion to the corner soon falls when they realise they’re getting _very_ hot and _very_ heavy in their own little world, Blake’s hoodie unzipped and pulled down around their waist, Velvet biting along their throat. “They’re pretty inseparable, and they’ve been dating for a few years now. If you hear any, um, _noises_ tonight that’ll be them.”

“Got it.”

“Over there, that’s Pyrrha Nikos, university sports champ. And the little redhead by her, that’s Nora. Ren’s the tall one beside her. Also inseparable.” Yang casts her eyes around the room. Ruby’s probably still upstairs, and Jaune’s also probably made a swift exit to do the same, nerds. “My little sister is Ruby, but she hides upstairs to play games, as does Jaune. You… probably won’t even meet ‘em, so don’t worry.”

Weiss nods again, taking in all the faces around her, and it strikes Yang that has Weiss ever even _been_ to a student party before? Did she ever go to uni? Yang can recall some lost bit of trivia telling her that they were born in the same year, but maybe she misremembered! Was Weiss old enough to drink yet? How old did you have to be to drink in Atlas?

Thankfully, Yang’s internal unravelling is interrupted by one Coco Adel slapping her on the back before sliding between her and Weiss. Her sunglasses ( _“They aren’t sunglasses, I’m colourblind, you fuck, I need these-”_ ) are off and probably in Yatsu’s safekeeping, and her grin is too wide to be sober. “Hey Xiao-Long, hey _Schnee_ -” Coco looks especially interested in Weiss, ruffling her hair with neither permission nor care. “Didn’t ever think I’d meet you outside of a corporate party!”

Yang frowns. “You’ve met?”

Weiss isn’t even perturbed; rather, her little smirk is both kinda hot and mildly evil. “Good to see you’re just as in control of your inhibitions in private as you are at industry symposiums.”

Coco barks out a laugh, short and dry, before hooking her arms around Weiss and Yang’s necks. The height difference means she’s at a weird slant, but that doesn’t seem to bother her. “See, Yang, Weiss has got _jokes_.” Then, she glances towards Velvet, who seems to be tying Blake up with their own hoodie or something equally as gay. “My best buddy tells me you’ve been making real strange bedfellows. Something something deep-dish pizzas?”

Weiss rolls her eyes, though her demeanour has changed in a way Yang can’t quite pin right down. “Just having one of my three annual allotted breakdowns. You know how it is.”

Coco snorts and then releases the pair of them, stepping between them to escape towards the kitchen. “Hang around here for a while, Schnee!  You’ll have your other two before the week’s out!”

In all honesty, Yang can’t tell if Weiss and Coco being… _acquainted_ is a good thing or not. Coco’s brash and loud and will drag anyone if she can get a good enough grip on their ankle, which means she and Velvet get along legendarily well. Yang can’t imagine how Coco and Weiss do if even from that interaction alone there was enough snark in the air to cut a lesser man right down to size. Rather than dwell on it, Yang steps away from Weiss long enough to poke at Velvet’s shoulder, trying to block out the gross noises they are absolutely making until Velvet finally turns around. She’s not even mad; she’s got a flushed face and a grin that says yes, they are absolutely trying to gross out the biggest asexual in the room and sir, they have _won_. “Yes?”

“Firstly,” Yang points towards Blake, who shrinks further into the shadows. “No BDSM where people can see. Secondly, can Weiss borrow your room for tonight? Figured it’d be vacant.”

Velvet looks around Yang to stare at Weiss, and her brows lift. “Oh! Really?”

“Yeah, really. Unless you’re sober enough to start giving lifts.”

Velvet laughs. That’s a no. “Sure. She’s not allowed to complain about the mess though.”

Yang rolls her eyes, watching Blake shrug their hoodie back on before mumbling something about getting drinks and slipping away. Yang lets them go; it’s mostly Velvet who drags them into PDA kicking and screaming but also neither kicking nor screaming because everyone can see they’re a soppy mess for her. They’re not the perfect couple - they’ve had some damn huge blowout fights over sometimes really stupid shit, which is why Velvet still technically has her own room, but they work it through. They’re used to handling the rough and tumble, and when you’re Faunus it’s no surprise they stick together. It’s not easy out there.

Still, once Velvet follows after her datemate Yang returns to Weiss’s side, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder towards the hallway out towards the toilets and stairs. “Got permission for the spare room. Wanna go check it out? Hot down here.”

“Yeah.”

With that they wander upstairs together, the floorboards creaking as they head up to the first floor. Velvet’s room is here, as are the rooms of Pyrrha, Nora and Ruby. Jaune, Ren and Blake are upstairs and Yang is in the attic, but for now Yang heads to the first door on the right, a White Fang recruitment poster stuck across the unpainted wood and torn from where it’d been ripped down from a wall somewhere. It’s unlocked as ever so they stroll in, and the room smells of Velvet’s spicy body spray and of sandalwood from a set of diffuser sticks on the sideboard. It’s not actually that much of a mess; there’s craft shit across the floor under the window and Velvet’s desktop in one corner. Her bed is actually made up pretty nicely when she’s not there, though the orange duvet cover is almost offensively bright. Not that Yang can judge, since her whole room is so yellow that it’s impressive nobody’s been blinded by it yet. Still, Weiss steps in and looks around, and whilst Yang is sure her hotel room wherever the fuck is probably four billion times fancier than this, her little smile is soft. And Yang, of course, feels herself melting. “It’s so homey.”

It very much is. On the wall behind the bed is a huge woven blanket from Menagerie, styled after Velvet’s tribe, and there’s hundreds of posters and photos and plans and notes and just _stuff_ on the walls too. They’re mostly of Velvet’s family, of Blake, but of more recent things too: Yang’s in a couple, usually when they’re at the beach or in the gym, and there’s some of Pyrrha and others that’re really really fancy and professional with nice lighting and perfect composition. Velvet’s a great photographer, and a super neat friend. Yang’s glad to know her. “Velvet’s like that. I don’t think you can be impersonal with her.”

Weiss pads across the room, stepping lightly over a patterned rug that’s seen better days before she lightly sits on the bed. The mattress is overly squishy so she sinks quite a bit, and as she takes in the room Yang crosses her arms. Unfolds them. Puts her hands on her hips. Breathes in deep and rolls her neck. “Well, listen. I can grab some pyjamas from, like, Ruby for you since you’re about the same size. Or you can borrow mine or, heck, Velvet probably won’t mind.”

“Thanks,” Weiss murmurs, and there’s a ding from somewhere before Weiss pulls out a Scroll from one pocket. Yang just wants to know where she got jeans with real pockets in. “People are already asking after me. What excuse should I give?”

Yang doesn’t realise she’s actually waiting on an answer until a few seconds pass, and she hastily says, “You’ve realised you get horrible allergic reactions to other people’s bullshit and need bedrest. Urgently.”

Weiss cackles and Yang’s so pleased to be able to make her laugh! This is gay content, sure, but she’s thriving off it. Weiss fires back a text or so before putting her Scroll away, and then she lies back across the bed with her arms spread out, letting out a little sigh of relief. From downstairs comes a loud _THUD_ and a squawk of terror, and Yang sighs before making for the door, preparing to give someone a thorough talking to about _behaving in the host’s house, dumbass,_ when Weiss speaks again.

“Thank you. Seriously.”

Yang glances over one shoulder, sees Weiss sitting up, and grins with the most disarming smile she can. “Don’t gotta thank me! What else are friends for?”

It’s cheesy and can probably be definitely used to read too much into Yang’s intentions, but she’s gone before Weiss can say anything. It’s for the best, really.

Night comes and goes without too many incidents. Well, for one of Yang’s bashes it went down _exceedingly_ well, but Blake doesn’t like to count all their eggs until they know if the microwave still works. They, of course, had a _great_ night and even though they’re walking a little funny and Ruby will definitely have more than a few noise complaints they’re in a very good mood. So much so that they wake up earliest of everyone and end up in the kitchen alone making breakfast and tea for both themself and Velvet. Well, that’s until there’s a gentle stepping of feet and Weiss heads into the kitchen too, dressed in one of Velvet’s nightshirts that’s big on her and _really_ big on Weiss in a really adorable sort of fashion. She takes Blake in, rubs at her eyes and then yawns, moving past her to reach the kettle. “Morning.”

“Mornin’,” Blake replies, and they can _hear_ their mam’s voice going _she’s a guest, Blake, be helpful_. “Uh, tea is in the cupboard above your head, coffee is in the jar down there. Milk ‘n’ stuff, fridge, and you have have cereal or toast or whatever.” They point as they speak and Weiss murmurs thanks, reaching over to take one of Nora’s novelty mugs - this one in the shape of a unicorn - off the rack, adding in a few heaped spoonfuls of instant coffee before pouring in still-hot water. Blake doesn’t mean to stare but they kinda do, if only because they’re still a little weird about her. Though for more reasons than one. It doesn’t help that she smells like their girlfriend now. “Hey, uh. Can I apologise?”

The words had to be forced out, but not because they’re not genuine. Blake’s just an awkward bean is all. Weiss looks to them, glances about like she’s expecting something to happen, and then jolts her head in a little nod.

Blake sips their tea. Considers their words, and then ploughs on ahead. “Listen. I was kinda weird about you last night? I mean, you didn’t see most of it, but like. I dunno. If I made you feel unwelcome, I was just being… me. So, sorry.”

Weiss makes an incredulous sort of face, with the head tilt and the squint and the almost-sneer. “Most people don’t apologise for what’s happened behind closed doors.”

“Most people _you_ know. We’re a funky bunch.” Blake regrets saying Nora’s team catchphrase out loud. It’s bad enough to hear, worse to speak aloud. But it makes Weiss burst into a laugh, and Blake suddenly doesn’t mind as much.

“That’s true. You’re forgiven, I suppose, though I don’t think there’s much to forgive.”

Blake supposes that’s true. “So… what’re your plans now? I heard Yang mention something about you flaking on some concert thing, but other than that?”

Weiss shrugs, stirring her coffee around and around. “I’m not sure yet. Suppose it’s never a bad time to climb into a different freezer.”

“Yang said not ours, but go wild anywhere else.”

Blake likes it when Weiss grins. No wonder Yang had been waxing poetic about it around two in the morning. “A shame. It looks very spacious.”

Chuckling as they pick up both mugs of tea in one hand before grabbing their bowl of cereal, Blake makes to leave the kitchen, watching black tea dare near the rim before settling. The fridge behind them opens, shuts, and Blake can’t help but call, “See you later, freezer fairy.”

There’s no answer. That, Blake thinks, is an entirely fair response.


	3. Summer Lovin', Happened So Fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /kazoo noises  
> time 2 commit to the honey frapp

The offer for Weiss to stay the night turns into a whole week.

Velvet, for all intents and purposes, doesn’t mind. She hunts up an article two days after the party to research something called _citizenship by investment_ , a phrase Yang mentioned casually over drinks and had sounded _way_ too complex to be something she knew off the top of her head. So, as it turns out after scrounging up a few sources, yeah, Weiss literally has the legal right to plop her ass down anywhere in Vale and just _live_ there. Velvet has to admit that she’s mildly (read: extremely) jealous, since she and Blake would probably have their asses booted back to Menagerie on the day of their graduation if the anti-immigration lot had their say about things. Not that Velvet doesn’t love Menagerie and doesn’t look forward to seeing her family again, of course; it’s just that she’s pretty attached to the city these days and all her friends are here too! Also insert something about Vale sitting on top of her family’s ancient tribelands anyway, etc etc, and really the whole argument falls apart at the seams.

Borders, Velvet has long decided, are a silly thing of human creation and would have been better left uninvented.

Anyway, after the first night Weiss had hung out with the crew to help clear up the party’s aftermath, empty bottles and cans piled up in the recycling as sticky stains were mopped from the floors. They’d gotten halfway through a laundry list of things to tidy up when Pyrrha announced that they were all going out for a light lunch to unwind, and it was then, sat around a table in a little seafront restaurant, that Weiss had idly noted her plane was due to leave in less than three hours. So, Velvet did the one thing she could: she drove Weiss to the hotel to grab her bags and then headed directly for the airport. That’s when, in the comfort of the car, they sat together listening to the radio as they watched her plane fly up into a clouded sky before bringing her back to the house.

When they’d come back Weiss had tried ( _really_ tried) to convince Yang to let her book a hotel and get out of everyone’s collective hair, but when she turned to Velvet for support the Faunus gave up her room with little more than a wave of her hand, and Yang considered that settled. After all, Yang’s speciality was settling shit. It was how they’d all lived in the same house without someone being murdered at three in the morning.

“Okay- alright, okay, I’ll concede,” Weiss had finally said after an hour’s worth of back-and-forth between herself, Yang, Velvet, Pyrrha and sometimes Ruby if she was walking by during the discussion. It made Yang physically cheer to hear that, until Weiss had held up one finger for quiet. “ _If_ you’ll tell me why.”

Even at the time Velvet had considered that a silly question; sometimes you didn't need a reason to do stuff! Even Yang barely had a decent reason for three-quarters of the things she did in life! She always went with her gut, or with the flow, taking things one step at a time. The _why_ of something never bothered Yang, but clearly Weiss was _that_ kind who was bothered very much. Yet, as Velvet could have predicted, Yang had shrugged, grinned, and winked.

“I dunno! Way I see it, you need a space to chill out, and we have it. Better to hang out with good company than all alone, right?”

Weiss’s expression said _I don’t agree but okay I’ve clearly lost this battle_ , yet it was only after making more apologies to Velvet than she could count on all her fingers and toes that Weiss finally settled in her room proper. It wasn’t like there was anything hiding in there that people hadn’t already seen/heard/could assume from a series of facts, so it didn’t bother Velvet none. Still, when Weiss had headed into the shower that evening Velvet had gone downstairs to the kitchen just long enough for Yang to pull her aside to talk with a conspiratorial sort of voice, Blake already present as they rooted around in the freezer for something.

“But also, it’s not, like, just me who thinks-” Yang paused to glance up at the ceiling as if Weiss could eavesdrop right over the sound of her shower. “Not just me who’s just a _little_ concerned about, y’know, Weiss’s mental health in general, right? Not sure if I’m the first person to say, but.”

Blake had glanced over the door of the freezer, amber eyes making for a flat stare. “I hadn’t noticed,” they said, deadpan, and Velvet snorted as Yang rolled lilac eyes. Still, she had to admit Yang wasn’t _wrong_ , not really. Weiss had stayed oddly vacant the whole time she’d stayed there, lingering on the fringes of conversation and distilling her contribution down to one or two word answers. The whole drive to the airport and back had been utterly silent, and whilst Velvet could understand not enthusiastically chatting away with a semi-stranger, her quiet still read as being less _socially-awkward_ and more _emotionally disengaged, please leave a message after the beep._

Beep.

The good news is it’s not like Weiss is the odd one out. The whole house is full of screwballs all with varying levels of, well, _coping_ , and if any group could help anyone it’d probably be theirs… within reason, of course. So of course they let Weiss into their _funky bunch_ , offering her a space on the couch when they’re all watching TV or helping her open that one cupboard that always gets jammed, and Velvet finds she’s alright as far as people go. Her living there also means Velvet gets to make one million ‘there’s a cute girl in my bed’ jokes a minute, and Blake finally can’t take up all the dang mattress for themself now she’s sleeping there even more often than she already did! Admittedly, it means occasionally getting bruised in the night when Blake has another nightmare or ten, but being able to soothe Blake makes Velvet happy! And, in the end, even if it does go entirely tits-up they can blame this whole shebang on Yang. So! Everybody wins! Except for Yang, but Yang wins everything anyway so it’s literally nobody’s loss.

So one night becomes two, becomes three, becomes four. Weiss is quiet enough to fit right in without a word, still mostly living out of her suitcase rather than properly move in, but it’s on the fifth morning that that’s due to change. It comes with the scent of bacon and eggs, toast and baked beans, a breakfast prepared by Yang for anyone who’s awake before noon, and it’s paired with Yang’s announcement at the dining table that she’s going on a walk down by the canals and anyone who hasn’t exercised that week has to come with. Blake and Velvet share a grim look because they’re the only two who spent the whole week playing video games and having exercise of a _different_ kind instead of going outside, but then Yang places a hand on Weiss’s shoulder so gently it was like she was scared she was made of glass, and Weiss looks up with a jolt to see Yang’s signature Mama Bear smile aimed right for her.

“You wanna come with? It’s a nice day, and the canals here are really nice.”

Weiss mulls it over, and then does this little twitch of a nod. She probably doesn’t think she has a choice in the matter, Yang being her gracious host and all, but Velvet knows Yang would 100% let her be if she asked. She’s like that.  Still, it’s settled - because again, that’s what Yang is best at - and people come and go through the kitchen as they wake up, Ruby being the last to drag herself downstairs in her pyjamas and earning herself a light admonishment from Yang. Anyway, once the vast majority have been fed for the morning they clear up the table and dress for the day, and with a few waves to the housemates still lingering on the ground floor, the four of them boot up and head out of the house.

Yang hadn’t been wrong about the weather, Weiss is pleased to see; the Valian summer’s drawing in and with it comes clear skies and warm days, unlike the stiff and cool breezes of the distant north. Even in the morning light with the sun sluggishly rising overhead it’s hot enough that Blake’s quick to shed themself of the thin black hoodie they were wearing, tying it around their waist instead before linking hands with Velvet. They fit together so nicely, Weiss thinks, both of them around the same height with colour palettes that oddly match, Velvet’s bright wardrobe nicely contrasted with Blake’s darker shades. As they cross a bridge off the main road into a wooded area Velvet stops to take a selfie with a willow tree as a backdrop, only snapping the photo once she kisses Blake on the nose. They laugh, and kiss again, and then continue on their way, Yang shouting _“gay!”_ as if it has any consequence at all.

The bridge leads to a trail trodden out by thousands of feet before them, and it curves around and leads over a hill to a canal line that stretches off into the city limits. Blake and Velvet lead the way, talking and laughing and sometimes switching to a rapid-pace Menagerian dialect that Weiss had no hopes of even vaguely deciphering, but luckily Yang hangs back with her, staying quiet.

Weiss feels like maybe she shouldn’t trust Yang. Everything that’s been going on for the past few days feels like a fever dream as is, if only because her memory feels especially hazy lately and that in her experience, people don’t offer an olive branch without something equal in return. Weiss doesn’t like owing people, but she’s run out of choices. Watching her plane leave without her was meant to cement the ground of whatever path she’d landed herself on when she’d fallen asleep in a freezer, of all places, yet anxiety gnawed at her stomach. Yang’s been nothing but kind, and everyone’s mentioned that it’s no facade. Why should it be? But it feels too good to be real.

“So this,” Yang finally pipes up, and Weiss can feel a flinch in her shoulder blades. “This is the Vale canals. They go all the way from, like, outside Forever Fall to the east right down to the docks on the western coastline. Some of ‘em travel all the way from inland out to the li’l island of Patch.” Yang winks then, as if letting Weiss in on a little secret. “That’s where me ‘n’ Ruby are from, if you were wondering about the accent.”

Weiss hadn’t been, but now that Yang mentioned it, she hears it. Typical Valian is smoothed on the edges, not as lyrical as Mistrali and blunter than Vacuan. Yet Yang’s accent lends it a more rough-hewn lilt, a variation that inflects on every syllable. “Oh.”

Yang nods, and the trails slopes down to a proper paved path alongside the waters, brightly coloured boats anchored in place with thick lengths of rope. A family of ducks swim by, babies in tow of their mother, and Yang smiles fondly at them. From what Weiss has seen and, well, _experienced_ , that mother duck isn’t too unlike Yang herself, commanding a household of young students as well as any mariarch could. It’s… _different_ , being looked after, even if Weiss still eyes it with a healthy dose of suspicion.

“It’s really nice. Not too many locks either, ‘cause Vale’s so flat,” Yang continues with a laugh. “I once helped someone climb the only three-staired lock near Forever Fall, and it’s a ton of work. Massive workout. It’s better to stay within the city if you want an easy ride.”

Weiss eyes Yang’s muscles. Her right arm has been replaced at some point with an alarmingly bright yellow prosthetic arm, which Weiss already noted was from an Atlesian brand, but it seemed too small when compared with her rest of her, all golden-brown skin that curved and valleyed with delineations of muscle beneath. She was shorter than Velvet by a touch but considerably broader, and every time Weiss had caught her wearing little more than her sports bra it felt like it took ten minutes for the blush to finally fade.

Anyway! Point being! It can’t have been _that_ much of a workout with a body like Yang’s unless it’d been years prior.

“I’ve never been on a canal,” Weiss offers after a contemplative moment. “Went on a cruise, once.” Possibly twice. Weiss has done a lot of thing that she was too young to remember. Yang looks impressed.

“Really? I always wanted to, but they’re kinda expensive.”

Weiss doesn’t add that it was a private cruise owned by one of the Schnee Industries many investors. “It’s not... as _fun_ as you might think. There were a lot of people who didn’t realise how seasick they got until we were well on our way.”

Yang laughs, drawing back the attention of Blake for a moment before they continue to chat with Velvet, letting go of her hand just long enough to sling it around her waist instead to hold her close.

Weiss feels just a little jealous.

The canal follows a smooth bend that’s peppered with bridges, the undersides of some covered in colourful, detailed graffiti, and several times everyone but Weiss has to duck under the low boughs of trees. The waters are speckled with petals and leaves, and at a few points on their paths tens of boats are lined up along the sides, bobbing softly in the waters. On one sit three children on the roof, playing games on their Scrolls together in the morning air, and Yang waves to them before they continue on their way. It’s very different from Atlas, Weiss thinks, where everything is so impersonal. People less _live_ in Atlas than _reside_ there, a city that’s eternally rented, never owned. It’s all temporary. Vale feels different in a way Weiss can’t quite place, like even her very soul can sense the change. She hadn’t seen the sense in getting citizenship in Vale, of all places, at the time; why not Vacuo, or Mistral, where business interests often required their attendance? Why Vale, easily the most stable of their sources of income? There was nothing they couldn’t do over a Scroll call these days.

Now, there’s nowhere she’d rather be.

Up ahead the canal forks off, and both lines head towards the heart of Vale proper, seen on the distant horizon with a sheen of glass and shadows of monolithic buildings. Blake and Velvet take the fork off to the left without any input and Yang and Weiss follow them, though Weiss can’t help but glance back at the other way for a second or two.

“That leads to the commercial district,” Yang chimes in when she notices. “This way is down towards industrial, but we’ll be heading back around towards home in a bit anyway.” Then, after another minute, she adds, “Have you, y’know, been okay with us?”

Weiss frowns. “How so?”

“Y’know! Like, uh, has the room been okay, has anyone woken you up at four in the morning, stuff like that.”

Weiss has to hold in a laugh. From just those questions she can tell Yang would have been great as one of the people at the front desk of a hotel, asking how everyone slept and if they needed directions to breakfast? “Everyone seems to sleep much earlier than I’d expect in a student house, I’ll admit.”

“We don’t!” Velvet yells back, and Blake smacks her arm with a grin. Yang makes a face that’s particularly revulsed, though, and it distinctly reminds Weiss of the party when Yang had spoken to Velvet with a constant grimace.

“Is something wrong?”

Yang’s face falls back into a grin, though it drops a few molars when Weiss keeps staring. “Huh?”

Weiss doesn’t know how to word it, so she makes a motion to her face and Yang seems to have it click into place. “Oh!” And then, bashfully, “Yeah, uh. I’m being a dork. I’m, uh, asexual, so those two being- not _gross_ , but like _that_ is, like, _kinda_ weird for me. I’m- I’m over-exaggerating, but like-”

“Aah,” Weiss interrupts with a smile. “I see.”

“It’s not like I’m _bothered_ ,” Yang starts with a blush, and then she bites her own tongue when Blake can be heard distantly saying _but she is_. “I’m not! It’s just, eh, I don’t get it. And those two always _try_ and gross me out!”

Velvet cackles and even Weiss can’t stop a breezy little laugh, especially when Yang pouts and crosses her arms like a kid. It’s funny how someone who acts so grown up can also be like this, ducking down to toss a stick at Blake and falling considerably short.

“I suppose I can’t relate,” Weiss says with a hand to Yang’s arm to draw her gaze downwards, quite significantly so. It’s true, after all, since even remembering the way Blake and Velvet kissed that night of the party makes the same envy flare deep in the pit of her stomach. “But if it makes you feel better, those two _are_ a touch sickening.”

That gets a grin from Yang, and Velvet sends a wink over one shoulder to Weiss that makes her face flush pink and ears burn. She hasn’t yet even confessed to herself that despite having not noticed how remarkably attractive the Faunus who found her were at the time, it’s becoming painfully apparent the more days she’s spending in the house. Also Yang! Is very hot! Weiss isn’t sure how much longer she can cope when all she’s in the mood for is to get kissed, maybe. Not even by the three people she’s with! She’s just in the mood for affection! The worst part is this mood wasn’t even _a_ mood until she started living with these people.

“Well, we could work on being sickening right back, I guess?” Yang replies, and Weiss is about to ask ‘how’ when Yang offers her left hand. Weiss just sort of stares for a second, not parsing the meaning until she blushes and _oh_ ’s and then takes Yang’s hand in hers.

Her palm is warm. Weiss’s hand is small enough to almost disappear when Yang’s fingers curl around hers, and the height difference means Weiss has to keep her arm bent, yet almost instantly that yearning for affection goes all quiet. It’s nice. Yang feels nice. This is good.

“Awh,” Blake croons, and Yang makes a nervous laugh as they make a little heart with their hands. “How cute!”

“Shut up,” Yang snipes back, but she doesn’t let go so Weiss doesn’t pull away.

They hold hands all the way back to the house.


	4. :/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so! i did a 24 hour create-a-thon, which is an event in which you stay awake for 24 consecutive hours and make something. usually i poll what folks want me to write, and velvet server asked for more deep-dish regret! i finished the first draft and nearly finished the second within the time limit; the last few paragraphs were done today.
> 
> as such, if this reads like a very tired student was writing it, that's because... a very tired student was writing it. huzzah!

Once Weiss has lived in the house for little over a month, things start steadily going to complete shit.

Yang, if she’s being completely honest, had seen it coming a mile away. Things in their house never lasted long, everything they did seemingly subject to sod’s law, streaks of good luck ending just as suddenly as they’d begun. Weiss was no exception to the rule. Rather, after that whole hand-holding down by the canal scenario, Yang had gotten this little _!!!_ in her heart when she was around Weiss, which is a feeling that never had and ever would mean anything good. It was the type of thing that made Yang melt when she saw Weiss smile, that made her melt even more when she heard her laugh. And! To make matters worse! The whole thing gets even more exacerbated when you consider that the more time Weiss spends in the house the more she does both of those things, often in succession! So now Yang’s living her life as a 24/7 puddle on the damn floor, is basically the long story short.

Perhaps, in a better world, that would be the worst of it. But because everything ever has to be made _worse_ by weird cosmic forces that swirl around their house and only their house specifically, Blake and Velvet have admitted, to Yang’s face, _more than once_ , that they’re feeling the same way! And what made _that_ worse was that they both had the backbone to actually act on it, flirting with Weiss as recklessly as one asks the Maidens to take the wheel. Of course it’d been subtle at first (or, y’know, as subtle as it gets for Velvet ‘Wanna Touch My Butt’ Scarlatina, which isn’t subtle at all), but even though they were flirts around just about anybody who’d go along with it, Velvet had been way more touchy-feely with Weiss, and Blake had progressed to offering kisses and hugs to Weiss in exchange for just about anything, be it a slice of pizza or a spoonful of yogurt.

Admittedly, Weiss hadn’t taken up any of those offers (yet!), but she’d been acting flirtier and flirtier in return, sometimes turning the tables so well that Blake would be left stammering and breathless.

And Yang is- well, Yang’s bothered by this. Bothered for a lot of reasons. It’s not even just Weiss that she’s bothered about, which is why it’s getting so damn messy. She’s not sure how she’s feeling about any of this now that her own heart’s turned goddamn traitor. Really, she needs the space to process this.

Which is exactly when Weiss gets kicked out of Velvet’s room.

Well, okay. That’s not a strictly fair description. It’s more like _Blake and Velvet are, yet again, having a mild impasse over silly fuckery and need some alone time before one of them catches the other in a headlock_ , so Velvet ends up knocking on Yang’s door at around ten in the morning on a beautiful Saturday to ask, “Hey, listen, do you mind if Weiss bunks with you for a night?”

“Uh,” Yang says in return, glancing Velvet up and down for a quick second. She looks exhausted, but that’s really no damn surprise; everyone in the house had heard the lovebird’s little debate turn a touch more heated late last night, so them taking a time-out isn’t unexpected. It is, however, mildly inconvenient, and whilst Velvet might look pretty tired and frustrated Yang’s not entirely sure she’s comfy with it right now. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Velvet states a little sharply, and then she coughs, eyes averting sheepishly. “Sorry. Blake and I are having a, uh, _thing,_ and I just need some time to think.”

“That bad?” Yang can’t imagine Blake and Velvet ever splitting up because those two match like two dang halves; it didn't always used to be that way, as according to Blake, but they’d worn grooves in each other that didn’t fit anyone else now. Velvet, not very reassuringly, just shrugs.

“Not _that_ bad, I guess. Just, hm, gettin’ on each other’s nerves a bit. You mind?”

Kinda. “Nah, not at all. Just one night?”

Velvet nods tersely, so Yang just sighs. Better that than a week, or something. “You got it. You’d better tell her yourself though.”

Velvet gives Yang a thumbs up, rubbing at one eye with her other hand, and then she turns on her heel and heads down the stairs leading up to the attic with both hands shoved into the pockets of her bright orange boardshorts. Yang watches her go until she disappears from view, the rhythmic _thud_ of the stairs indicating Velvet’s headed towards wherever Weiss is, and Yang pinches the bridge of her nose before eyeing up the sizeable double bed that’s below a wide window looking out onto the street below. The thick yellow duvet and matching blanket are mussed up from when Yang woke up this morning, and there’s dirty clothes tossed about the place and papers to be neatened on her desk, but it’s somewhat presentable, and there’s more than enough space for one Yang and a little Weiss. It’ll be fine.

Well, realistically speaking it probably won’t be, but Yang can pretend.

So Velvet tells Weiss and Yang makes sure to ask Weiss if it’s all cool with her, because if she really didn't want to share a bed with Yang then Velvet would have to suck it up and deal with her dang relationship problems head on like everyone else. But, after Weiss gives Yang a squint and a bit of a Look, she agrees. It’s probably ‘cause Yang is, technically, the host and Weiss maybe doesn’t want to disagree with her on anything, but who knows. Either way, as Yang is tidying her room up for Weiss a part of her is going _yes_ and the more rational part of her is also going _yes!_ but another part, that’s darker and deeper and hurting, keeps saying _no no no this won’t go the way you’re hoping this won’t go the way you’re wanting._ Yang feels like it’s right. She’s holding out too much hope for someone who was only meant to be here a night, who was meant to be at fancy concerts playing for people who signed checks with more than five zeroes. What was a kid with a dumb accent from Patch meant to do to grab attention like that?

Still, as her pops would say, you can only go where the river takes you. So, that night Weiss comes in dressed in the most luxurious pair of pyjamas Yang’s ever seen, each button polished to a shine and the fabric so expensive Yang’s a little nervous to put them in the washing machine. Considering they seem like the kind that need to go to an incredibly specific dry cleaner found only in the the most remote corner of Atlas accessible only by answering three (3) riddles, Yang’s mildly nervous whenever Weiss has a drink whilst wearing them. She, on the other hand, is dressed as conservatively as her pyjamas will allow. It means long red pants and an orange vest with a higher neckline than usual, her prosthetic put aside, and Yang even makes sure Weiss has an extra pillow like she has in Velvet’s room. It’s theoretically as well set up as it could be for a perfect night where nothing can possibly go wrong.

“Man,” Yang says as she fiddles with her Scroll, catching up on the last notifications for the night. “I hope this isn’t, like, too awkward for you? I can always take the sofa downstairs, since it’s not so bad if you toss a duvet over it.”

Yang’s barely done speaking when Weiss rounds the bed, shaking her head as she goes, though she has a small, soft smile that makes Yang’s heart skip a beat or two. “That’s a little silly when this bed is big enough for us both. I don’t take up much room.”

“Yeah,” Yang agrees. “Fair,” she adds. Then she runs a hand through her hair because it’s a nervous tic she’s never quite shaken off, and when Weiss’s smile widens she gets that mad gay feeling again so she turns around to focus on the bedside table, flipping over to the alarm application to set a time. Usually it’d be set for six so she can go on a run with Pyrrha, but she really doesn’t to subject Weiss to that so she sets it to eight, a much more reasonable time.

Actually, make that nine. Better safe than sorry and Yang’s sure she can fix her sleep schedule no problem. So, once its set and the volume adjusted Yang puts the Scroll aside, the bed groaning as Weiss lifts the far corner of the crisp duvet to slide in, back pressed to brushed cotton sheets dyed a sunny pastel yellow. She sighs once she’s comfy, snuggling against the pillows, and- oh man. It really hits Yang that Weiss - Weiss _Schnee_ \- is in her bed. Holy shit. She coughs and blushes and then leans over to toy with the lamp that’s illuminating her room, dimming it just enough that she can clamber in beside Weiss without stubbing a toe. It’s strange having another body in the bed when she’s so used to having people atop the duvet, sprawled across the width and passing the time with verbal shitposting as Yang tries to get work done at her desk, but this is like… real. Like properly having another person in the bed. It’s been a while since she’s felt the weight on the mattress be so evenly distributed. Wow.

“This is the first time I’ve ever shared a bed with someone,” Weiss says out of the blue, and Yang freezes for a second. Could she hear her thoughts? Was she musing out loud accidentally like some people do in novels? Eesh, that’s not a good habit to start. “You have a nice room.”

Awh. Yang thinks her room _is_ pretty nice. The attic was a bit of a… well, the kind phrase would be ‘dumpster fire’. Barren save for a bed, it’d taken a lot of shuffling furniture around and grabbing third to fifth-hand furnishings from the nearby junk store to get it feeling a touch more homely. It would never compare to home on Patch, of course, which quite frankly resonated a feeling of comfort and familiarity like a weird beacon, but it was getting there. A patterned rug in the middle of the room covered up the worst of a bunch of scuff marks, whilst fairy lights on the walls and curtain poles distracted the eyes from stains on the sloping walls, posters and photos and decorations filling the rest of the space. It’s a little too low for someone like Yang, really, her desk having to stand in the middle of the room ‘cause her computer doesn’t fit into the space under the angle of the roof, but she makes do. Being in the attic also means she has the biggest room by a country mile, though, so who was she to complain?

For some reason, Yang’s stupidly pleased Weiss likes it. It’s so dumb, but it makes her happy!

“Thanks,” Yang says with a grin, though Weiss is still pretty resolutely staring at the ceiling like she hadn’t said anything at all. “It’s not every day I get a cute girl complimenting my bedroom.”

That gets a giggle from Weiss, and it makes the bed shake a little. “Well, colour me surprised. Thought all the pretty girls would be lining up to snuggle with you.”

“Miss _Schnee_ ,” Yang gasps playfully. “Has Blake been telling you rumours about me and my past snuggle partners? I’ll have you know they’ve almost definitely been telling you complete bullshit.”

“Oh, really?” Weiss laughs again, finally glancing over with one bright blue eye. “So, you _didn’t_ snuggle up to Pyrrha? Blake told me a lot about that, but clearly-”

Not even hesitating for a second Yang rolls over right away, propping herself up on her scarred over stump with a dazzling smile. “Well, they’ve obviously had to throw _some_ truths in there, of course.” That gets a real laugh, the kind that makes Weiss cover her mouth to muffle the volume, and Yang lies back down with a victorious sort of feeling blooming in her chest.

“Of course you’d say that,” Weiss says, rolling her eyes good-naturedly and smiling bright. “I’d say I’m looking forward to seeing your skills firsthand, but I-” That’s when her smile drops, her gaze shifting back up to the ceiling as all the humour deflates. Oh boy. “I’m, uh, not very good with… affection.”

Times like this, Yang can’t help but feel like Weiss has all these pre-programmed answers like some sort of robot. It’s like the answers have been prepared beforehand on little flashcards and don’t quite fit the context of what she’s replying to, so it’s a little strange. Still, the admission makes something in Yang’s heart go all tight and painful, so she drops her head down with a muted _boof_ against her pillow, staring at Weiss for a second before she shuffles closer by maybe an inch or two. “That… I don’t think that’s true. Blake and Velv seem to think you’re okay with it.” There’s also the matter of the whole walk by the canal, but Yang omits that bit for now. No need to rock the boat.

Weiss’s mouth quirks upwards, like she’s not really sure whether she finds that amusing or not. “This house is the first time I’ve had it more often than, y’know.” She shrugs. “Never.”

That’s one of those fun little giveaways Weiss likes to do every now and again. Weiss has a bunch of them, honestly, dropping all these little fragments in conversation like a breadcrumb trail right to her heart, but Yang isn’t too sure exactly where it leads or her intentions for it. She’s glad, of course, that Weiss hasn’t just clammed up on her! And decided not to tell her anything! But in that same breath she’d sure like her to be a little more direct. Yang feels like she’s having to go behind Weiss’s back just to make sense of it all; when Coco had come around a few days prior Yang had asked about those ‘symposiums’ Weiss had mentioned, and Coco’s bitter laugh had told her pretty much all she needed to know.

Wherever Weiss had come from, it wasn’t good news. “Oh. Well.” Yang squirms in place for a second. “I mean! Happy to hear it. That you’re getting affection, I mean.” Gods, the foot-in-mouth syndrome is coming back to haunt her. Still, Yang decides to try and one-up Weiss’s vagueness with, “Most of us had to figure out affection too. But it’s really nice.”

Finally Weiss’s smile returns, though it’s smaller than before. “It is. And I like it here, being with you all. Thanks for letting me stay as long as I have.” She exhales. “I promise I’ll be out of here soon enough.”

“You don’t have to.” The statement practically jumps out of Yang’s mouth, so eager she is to keep her here. Whoops. “Like, our landlord won’t give a fuck about you so long as the eight people who’re _meant_ to be paying rent pay rent. And, like, where will you go?”

It’s… okay, Yang feels like it’s not her place to imply Weiss’s home isn’t an option. It may sound like an impossibility to her ears after what she’s heard so far, but really, she’s only heard maybe five percent of all the facts! Weiss knows more than she ever will about whatever the literal shit is going down in Atlas, and since nobody in the house is an Atlas native _save_ for Weiss, her impression is the only thing Yang can go off. Not that it’s a good impression, but still. But Weiss just shrugs again, closing her eyes and sinking against the pillows.

“I have to go home eventually. I don’t have the first clue how to explain anything I’ve done, of course, but I’ve _had to-_ ”

The words rise in volume until Weiss bites off the last syllable, tension making her jaw clench, and Yang has to mentally sit on a little voice in her head going _okay but that’s hot_. Weiss relaxes again after a second, though there’s something simmering in her voice when she continues. “I’ve had to explain myself for years now. Nothing’s going to have changed.”

Brutal. Yang sorta stares for a second, watching as Weiss’s breathing evens out, tension draining, and once Yang’s sure she won’t interrupt anything she murmurs just under her breath, “You don’t have to explain yourself here. Do what you want, what you feel like. It’s up to you.”

Silence. Yang figures that’s because, y’know, not everyone is exactly up for a real emotional heart-to-heart at, like, eleven at night. So Yang rolls over to fumble blindly for the switch on the lamp, and a solid _click_ plunges the room into darkness. From between the curtains come narrow streams of light from the yellow streetlamps opposite the house, and the little fairy lights above twinkle in and out, too small to really cast any light of their own outside of the immediate vicinity. Odd shadows get cast on the walls, usually forming vague approximations of whatever monster starred in the horror film Yang’s last seen, and Yang shuts her eyes to focus on the rhythm of Weiss’s steady breathing instead.

Well, at least she _would_ have if Weiss hadn’t shifted, rolling over and inching towards Yang until she was pressed against her chest, letting Yang put one arm about her to tug her close. It’s such a sudden display! And Weiss is so warm, freezer-hearted or not. Yang’s almost holding her breath as to not scare her back to the far edge of the mattress.

“Then I won’t explain this,” Weiss says simply,  and Yang wants to curse her words to the hells and back. She really does! But Weiss is so small and gentle in her embrace and instead Yang just curls around her, shutting her eyes and falling asleep before she even realises it.

It’s so much easier with someone beside you.

-

The next day, after Weiss had woken up in the crook of Yang’s neck and had hurriedly apologised for her intrusion before scampering back to Velvet’s room, she’d spent a good long while laid face-down on the living room sofa trying to make sense of everything. Almost all of last night had been utterly unintentional, but Yang was just so _easy_ to be honest with, so easy to spill her secrets to. Already Yang knew more about her than Weiss strictly wanted anyone to know, but there was no going back now.

 _This is all temporary,_ she’d reminded herself over and over as if it would stick in her mind any better. _I’ve got to go home and deal with this mess eventually_.

But Weiss finds it’s so much easier to… not. Everyone in the house is so kind to her; Ruby likes to bring her new and interesting chocolate from the shops, and Pyrrha always has a minute to spare to talk to her. Ren makes a really good breakfast and Nora’s introduced Weiss to what feels like every video game under the sun. Jaune is… well, Jaune is Jaune and that’s all well and good, and Blake and Velvet are- well, they’re very attractive, for one. The other thing is that they’re so flirty that Weiss gets stuck between the choices of ‘go bright red and perish’ or ‘flirt right back’, and she finds she’s been doing more of the latter lately. It just feels right! And Yang… Yang is _Yang_. Weiss has never met anyone like Yang before. Weiss has never met anyone like the students in this house before, even. Why did she have to stumble across something so good in a place like this?

But after maybe half an hour of groaning into the flattened sofa cushions, the front door opens and closes for a fraction of a moment, and after footsteps cross the hardwood floor someone taps Weiss on the shoulder gently. With another little noise Weiss lifts her head just long enough to see Ruby smiling down at her and offering a little wave.

“Hey Weiss!”

Ruby is, by and large, a sweetheart. Weiss can confirm this a hundred percent utterly unironically so. Like, seriously, Ruby redefines the term. She was a little shy at first but that’s mostly because she’s two years younger than everyone else, including Weiss, and Yang had proudly informed her that Ruby had gotten into Beacon a whole year early, meaning this is Yang’s second year and Ruby’s first. At first Weiss hadn’t been sure what to make of her - after all, her own experiences as a younger sister only tell her she didn’t turn out very well - yet Ruby is like Yang if Yang were quieter and a smidge more thoughtful and also liked comic books a lot. That’s not to say the sisters weren’t almost twins at some points, nor that they couldn’t be the loudest voices on the street together, but rather that Ruby was more inclined to sit back and let things happen. It was surprising how well they got on once Weiss had defrosted a touch. “Hello, Ruby.”

“You, uh,” Ruby starts as she tilts her head, looking a little confused in the fraction of a second before Weiss’s head plops back down again. “You doing okay?”

Maidens help her, it’s like the freezer thing all over again. “Yes. Well… yes.”

Ruby doesn’t make any noise for a second, though Weiss can imagine her face, mouth screwed up and grey eyes squinting down at her, but there there’s a sigh that tickles the top of Weiss’s short head of hair. “Okay then! Well, could you give this to Blake for me? Me ‘n’ Nora are going out to the docks to play some of the arcade games on the boardwalk and I gotta head out right now.”

Wordlessly, Weiss sticks her hand out, and then something heavy and smooth and plasticy is dropped into her palm. Feeling around it with her fingers doesn’t give her a clue as to what it is, so she lifts her head again and takes a look only to see a pack of four small, white wheels in a plastic wrap. She has no clue what these are for.

“I owed Blake, like, fifty Lien but also I’m kinda sick of hearing their flat spots go, like-” Ruby makes a grinding noise that means nothing to Weiss. “So yeah, I figured I’d get ‘em some wheels that were on their wishlist and- you know what? Call it a gift. Makes it easier.”

Weiss is thankful Ruby has tact sometimes. “Okay.”

Ruby grins again, teeth bright and adorably uneven, as she starts walking backwards towards the front door and making finger guns all the while. “Thanks Weiss! I’ll catch you later. Got stuff to win, money to lose, y’know how it be-”

The front door opens after a harsh pull on the handle and shuts with a scrape of wood against the doorframe, and Weiss is alone, so she stares at the pack in her hand. The wheels are 53mm and 99D, whatever that means, but Weiss already knows Blake’s in so she sits up with a huff, tightening the laces on her shoes before getting to her feet. She still hasn’t sorted out the mess in her head yet and maybe that’ll be fine, but also, it probably won’t be. Still, maybe Blake can help her out; they’re probably one of the most level-headed people in the house save for Yang and Pyrrha, and Pyrrha’s out in the gym and Yang is… well, Weiss doesn’t want to talk to Yang right now. She makes Weiss want to stay. So Weiss heads out into the hallway, clambering up hollow wooden stairs up towards Blake’s room on the second floor.

It’s not until Weiss is halfway up the second set, moving slowly enough that she’s not making much noise, that she catches the sound of Yang’s voice. It’s not like it’s unusual to hear Yang shouting around the house, either in jest or reprimand, but this time it’s low and muted and echoes through the hallway above. Taking each step extra slowly, Weiss gets high enough to just very barely see Yang stood outside Blake’s room, the door open and Blake stood in its frame. Their arms are crossed but loosely so, and Yang’s running a hand through her hair again, anxiety making her toes tap against the floor.

It’s so strange to see her like that.

“It’s just-” Yang continues, her voice loud enough that Weiss can make out her words much more clearly. “All this with Weiss really had me thinking on stuff. And like. I get it! You and Velv have been this super long term item, and I’m, y’know…”

Blake’s arms drop to their sides and they start reaching forward, the sleeves of their dark hoodie pushed up to their elbows to show off creamy brown forearms, but they seem to catch themself in the motion. Yang just steps back to maintain the distance, continuing with, “It’s just- mm, I just miss you a lot, Blake. I miss whatever that thing was that we had.”

Weiss frowns, because if this is meant to be sounding the way it does, then it doesn’t make sense. As far as she knows Yang’s never dated Blake, and Blake and Velvet have been dating since before they came to Beacon. She wants to hear more, but something in her heart says to go. This isn’t for her to hear. Yet she stays anyway.

Blake starts and stops, their shoulders falling as they close the distance in one stride, bringing them out into the hallway proper. There’s no-one else around but Weiss. “No, I- yeah, no, same? I’ve been missing you too. Especially lately.” They reach forwards slowly like they don’t want Yang to take off, and their fingers curl around Yang’s to hold her hands, fingers linking together. “I’d like to do it again. If you want to?”

The question hangs in the air like a raincloud threatening to burst, and then Yang chuckles, glancing down at her feet and then back up to Blake’s bright eyes. “I would. It’s… Weiss kinda reminded me of all the things I’ve loved about you.”

It’s Blake who leans forwards first, taller than Yang by an inch or two, and Yang has to tilt her head upwards as to get caught in a kiss. It’s soft and chaste and slow and it’s like, all of a sudden, they become the only two people in the whole world. This is different to when Blake and Velvet kiss, fast and teasingly, sealing a promise or asking for something more. This is the sort of kiss you give to someone you’ve longed for for a very long time, in Weiss’s eyes. Blake’s hands roam to Yang’s forearms, then up to her shoulders, and Yang finds a hold on Blake’s waist to press them closer, and Weiss realises with a rush of horror that she shouldn’t be seeing this. Whatever on Remnant this is meant to be - cheating, or longing, or love - isn’t for her eyes. She doesn’t even know what to do. Should she interrupt? Should she leave? What does someone do in this situation?

It’s Yang who pulls away first, with a smile and a pleased little giggle, and Blake is stood with their eyes shut, still holding onto Yang like she’s anchoring them to the face of the planet, before their eyes flutter open and their smile grows. “Wow. I _did_ miss that.”

Yang’s giggles turn into laughter, light and airy, and she presses her forehead to Blake’s, fingers curling against their ribs. “Yeah. It’s nice. I dunno why we ever stopped.”

“‘Cause of Weiss, I think.”

The implication makes Weiss’s ears hot. She hasn’t done anything since moving in, not really, and the idea that she’s somehow gotten between Blake and Yang’s… _thing_ is flat out bizarre! What did it even mean!

“That’s true,” Yang murmurs. “Been a bit of a shakeup huh?”

Blake hums in agreement as they take a small step back, but rather than widening the distance between them they keep hold on Yang’s hands to guide her into their room. They whisper something else but it’s too quiet to hear, the echo of the hallway obscuring the syllables as they blend into nothingness, and Yang chuckles before she steps over the threshold and disappears from sight. Their shadows are cast over the hallway floor, shifting over the light from Blake’s window until the door shuts behind, and Weiss is alone.

She has no clue what she’s just seen. She has no clue what to say.

Instead, she climbs up the last few steps of the stairs and heads to Blake’s darkly varnished door. They’re talking quietly inside, Blake’s bed creaking for a second as Yang laughs at something, but Weiss just leaves the wheels outside and doesn’t bother to knock, leaving before she can hear anything more. This isn’t her business. She has no right to be here being an obstacle in whatever the hells those two are up to, even if it is a case of Blake being a cheater or Yang being in love or whatever the shit. Not her problem. She doesn’t even live here.

What does she even care about these students anyway?


End file.
